


A Stark Protected

by NephilimEQ



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephilimEQ/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How things in the throne room might have gone differently when Joffrey tried to make an example of Sansa... Sansa/Bronn one-shot. PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews help me improve!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stark Protected

** A Stark Protected **

As Bronn strode in next to Tyrion, he saw the Lady Stark on the ground, her dress partially ripped from her, and he felt a stab of protectiveness. Even he knew it was wrong do such a thing, and in front of a crowd of onlookers…if he could get away with it, he would have killed the boy-king for that alone.

Yes, he was a man who enjoyed the occasional whore, but even when he didn’t pay for it, he made damn sure that the woman was always willing. Violence only got stupid and smart men alike killed.

The moment he saw Ser Meryn step forward, he muttered, “Careful now…we wouldn’t want to get blood all over your pretty white cloak,” and smirked as he did so. Personally, he’d like nothing more than to slip his dagger into the man’s throat and leave him there to bleed out over the throne room floor.

He listened to his employer as he, quote, “educated his nephew”, and then Tyrion said…

“Bronn, the next time Ser Meryn speaks, kill him.”

Bronn nodded. Gladly.

…But then the unthinkable happened. From an almost imperceptible sign from Joffrey, the damn knight stepped forward once more, right towards Sansa Stark.

Without even thinking about his actions, Bronn swept forward and in a move almost too fast for anyone to follow, he had knocked the blade from the knight’s hand and had his dagger exactly where he’d envisioned it being only moments before. Oh, please. Just one good reason. That’s all he needed. One. Good. _Reason._

He pressed the blade more firmly against Ser Meryn’s neck and then hissed, just loud enough for anyone to hear, “A man who beats a woman, is nothing more than a coward with a cunt. And for you, that’s being generous…”

Not glancing behind him, he knew that Tyrion was looking at him in surprise and he knew, without having to look, that the boy king was most likely furious and attempting to burn holes into him with just his eyes. But then he heard, to his shock, Joffrey say to the knight, “Hold, Ser Meryn. The girl’s learned her lesson,” and Bronn quickly surmised that the boy was actually afraid of something. Afraid of losing his most loyal pet. The sellsword smirked at that thought.

Dropping his blade, he gave the knight a look and said, “Looks like he doesn’t want to lose his faithful sheep. Too bad. I was itching for a new wool blanket…”

He stepped back towards the girl, sheathing his blade back in its’ spot in the small of his back, and then looked down at her.

She seemed shocked, but grateful.

Bronn glanced towards Tyrion, who had stepped back to join them, and then the sellsword reached out his hand, giving her the kindest look that he could muster…and it seemed to work. She placed her fingers in his, and he helped her up from the floor; and then, without even thinking about it, he placed his left hand at her back as he escorted her out.

Tyrion gave him an odd look, but the sellsword ignored it. He may be a mercenary for hire, but that wasn’t the only thing he was. Though he’d never say a word about it, he, too, had a past; it was just a bit more different than others who shared his profession. However, in moments such as this, he was unable to hide parts of it. No woman was ever to be belittled or abused, either in public or alone, there was just no argument to be made for it.

Just as Sansa was about to leave, Tyrion mentioned breaking off the engagement for her, but she adamantly refused, and Bronn was silently impressed.

The wolf was showing its’ claws.

Finally.

He discreetly followed her that evening, making sure that the mad child-king didn’t find an opportunity to get her alone and finish off what he’d started. The king didn’t make an appearance, but he took care of a few idiot thieves who thought that they might take a poke at the girl. They went down with barely a sound, the only sound a faint gurgle in their throats around his knife. It astounded him how many thieves still wandered about, and he made a silent vow to take care of as many as possible. They had no place in King’s Landing, _especially_ this close to the castle.

He watched the Stark girl carefully…and was pleased to see that she had made it back safely to her chambers.

One night. That’s all. He would watch her for one night; Lord Tyrion never had to know.

And so he did.

And if, several nights in a row, he happened to be near her quarters once more, it was pure coincidence, nothing more. And if there happened to be less threats to her on a daily basis, then that, too, was a mere pleasant happenstance.

**THE END**


End file.
